Musings of the Hero

Reassembling the rifle bolt Link started thinking. Thinking about his predecessors. How they fought. The weapons they used, and why. And why they fought.

It was something that bit at the back of his mind every once in a while. He was unlikely to ever find out, but it helped to pass the time.

Time. The Hero of Time. One of the most remembered Hero's. A true warrior. From nothing rose a champion who defeated the most dreaded evil to have ever existed. It was no wonder that he was applauded even the four or five thousand years after his death.

Inserting the bolt into its rails he slammed it firmly into place to make sure it seated and engaged the lock. He put the rifle to the side and picked up an smg. An older design, but it out performed many of its predecessors and most of the competition's designs, along with many of the company's follow ups. Looking it over he let his eyes fall upon the wolf head insignia he had had stamped onto the upper receiver.

The Hero of Light and Twilight. Legends said that he could change between a wolf and a man at will. Most likely it was just an embellishment to add flavor to the story. However the wolf's head became his family crest. One of Link's closest friends was a descendant of the Hero.

Checking the magazine he set the automatic firearm off to the side. He picked up his pistol. The large automatic felt good in his hand, almost an extension of it. Removing the magazine he did a quick top-off from the bag sitting next to him. After reinserting the magazine he opened his hand to look at the crest on this weapon. A phoenix holding a blacksmith's hammer in its left talon, and a sword in its right. His family crest.

The Hero of the Fallen light. His ancestor. Probably the greatest of the Hero's. He fought to reassemble the most sacred of artifacts. The Master Sword. The unbreakable which was shattered. Who struck the last blow and sealed Ganondorf for eternity.

Placing the pistol in its holster at his side it picked up a long thin package. Drawing a blade from it he withdrew the Master Sword from its sheath. The blade that marked him as a Hero. His badge of office. The one thing he could rely on when all else failed.

Images of other Heroes played at the edges of his mind. Some who had never even heard of Hyrule. Others who had fought only to fall in battle before their mission was completed. One who died to complete his mission. The Fallen Hero. The most courageous of any of them. He allowed the blade of a tyrant to pierce his heart to save the land which today Link took up arms to defend.

Strapping the sheath to his back he picked his smg up and slung it over his back as well. He picked up the rifle and stepped to the edge of the building. Morsage, the Black Wizard, occupied the next building. It was here that Link had fought to reach the last few months. To defeat his own Ganondorf, his own Vaati, his own evil.

Training his rifle on the guard standing to the left of the entrance he slowly squeezed the trigger. When all thought that silence ruled the night the report of a mid caliber rifle shattered all serenity as a Hero took the first step to fulfilling his destiny.

A/N: This is what comes from the pit known as my mind in the late hours of a waning day. I really have no clue about this. If you gain anything from it enlighten me.